Chapter Twenty-Three: No Crossing
It hadn't been more than four hours since we had left the compound that we came upon a murky brown river. Even just getting close was enough to set my Geiger counter abuzz. If I had to guess, the water stretched over a hundred feet across; the current was strong, like a rampaging bull. The water's color did no favors for figuring out the depth of this little creek, but I had to estimate it'd require swimming.
Kyle had perched himself on a rock with a clear view of our surroundings, some food in one hand and a water bottle in the other. He was spending this little time on break, yet he refused to fully relax as it wasn't difficult to spot his eyes darting about. And he'd occasionally send sidelong glances my way whenever he thought I wasn't looking.
Anton, on the other hand, had found a log about as far away from Kyle as he could. He held a book in his hands and his attention was given completely to the pages, but it never seemed like he was completely relaxed.
After some pacing on my part, I scratched my head as no solution came to me about how we'd get across. It'd make sense that there'd be several bridges over the current, but there was no telling if they were still standing; or if the people at the bridge would be friendly, or if there'd even be people at the bridge. The bookworm offered a comment, his tone just loud enough to hear over the rush of the water, "There's a settlement more to the south. I'm sure they'll let us cross."
"Why do you know of such a thing?" Kyle inquired, his tone full of suspicion. But Anton merely smiled over his book and kept on reading. That seemed to have only egged Kyle on further, but I ignored whatever Kyle said next. It was diatribe – nothing more – and I had other things to focus on.
Checking my Pip-Boy's map, I ran my finger along the river bank and saw that it indeed ran south. Before anything serious could break out between the two, I marched between and gave Kyle a glare. He immediately backed down. Anton, for his part, clapped the book closed with a flair before pocketing it. At that, we were ready and began the march south for the bridge.
It didn't take long until we started to come upon the bridge, even from a distance I could see thick pillars cutting through the water and forming arches to hold up the metal and concrete structure aloft. The top, however, was a different story; many oddly shaped boxes lined any available surface, several even running off along the side, suspended over the water, but still connected with the bridge. As we got closer, I noticed that there were holes cut into those metal boxes and cloth blocking the view inside. Every so often I'd even see faint hints of movement from inside.
Either end of the bridge was much the same, except with tall walls, each made of random bits of metal smashed and flung together to create this weirdly serene bit. Several towers dotted these walls, and it wasn't hard to notice a handful of guards sitting on high. On the west bank of the bridge, on our side, I caught the last glimpse of a battle. Super mutants littered the open area around, and a few humans as well; the super mutants were in retreat and a couple of them dropped as shots filled their backs.
We cleared the field and came under the wall. Up close, it was much taller than it'd appeared at a distance. Yet, I could notice poor patchwork in many places; loose metal, holes, you name it and it was likely there. Despite this, I felt many eyes on me as we moved in closer.
It wasn't until we stood before the gate that they even tried calling out, but at least they weren't shooting. "Give us one moment with the gate, we'll have it opened in a jiffy!"
In only a few short seconds, the air filled with a soft groan as metal rubbed against metal and cranking as cogs began to turn. The foremost slabs of sheet metal, patched together like the rest of the wall, began to rise until there was about eight feet of clearance. Despite this, the gate appeared to have been unable to clear the wall's height.
As I had been busy marveling at the gate, I hadn't noticed the woman stepping out. When I finally did notice her, she was a mere four feet away, and her hand was readied at her side, where a Chinese pistol lay in waiting. "What can we do for ya?"
Anton answered from the back, "We'd like passage to the other bank."
"Right," the woman replied, removing her hand from the gun and letting the tail coat of her overcoat hide away the weapon, "I reckon y'all need to see the mayor. Follow me."
Without waiting for a response, she began to walk toward the southeast. We looked at one another then followed after, keeping a few paces behind. I continued to observe the place; the inside was messier than the outside, the framework ran the length of the wall, tents of differing material lined the lower sections, and scaffolding and other walkways were prevalent toward the top. What few buildings were near the outside were repurposed train cars or large storage containers, even less were cobbled together from bits of metal scrap. The cobbled together buildings all had one thing in common: each carried a sign out front marking them with some kind of purpose.
After a short walk, we were led to the tallest of the buildings. This had been the only one that seemed to have been a real building at one point, and not something patched together. There was even evidence of it being repaired, but it was patchwork at best. A wooden sign hung out front, lightly flapping in what little wind there was, it carried the burnt carving of a top hat.
The woman stepped up to the door, knocked four times and pushed the door open. She stood there, unmoving. It wasn't until Anton started walking in that I understood her intention had been 'after you.' We stepped inside and my nose was immediately greeted by the thick scent of sage and tobacco; the thick stench permeated the room, even with the door held wide open, it still managed to linger. I instinctively covered my nose, and glanced at several groups of men and women sitting around tables passing out cards, each with a burning cigarette in their mouths.
Once the door slammed closed, the woman led us down a hall, before we went upstairs, where, somehow, the scent seemed to slowly clear. She led us down another hall until we were near the front of the building once more. A fine red oak door stood proudly against the muted wall, and she knocked twice and a voice called from the other side, "Bring them in please, Trish."
Our guide, the woman called Trish, pushed the door and stepped inside, we followed shortly after with me taking up the rear, as I had been busy looking around. This room was decorated like any other office I'd seen; a large desk, several cabinets lining the wall, and some dead plants in the corner. The man that had answered Trish stood before a large, rounded window and wore a patched suit. His back was turned, but I could tell that it fit snugly against his frame. His hands were locked behind his back and his posture was incredibly upright.
He spoke without turning, "It isn't everyday that two vault dwelling people visit my humble little bridge." He turned and his eyes locked onto Anton, fixing him with cold regard, yet it didn't show in his tone of voice, "I assume you folks would like to use this here bridge to journey to the other side." He paused for a second as if searching for the words he wanted to use next, but his sharp eyes never left Anton; he pulled one hand from behind his back and ran his fingers through his long, poofy beard, which only covered from his neck.
"However," he continued, "I'm afraid that the frequency of super mutant attacks has put this here bridge in a rough situation. If it were to end, then I could reasonably open up passage once again. If you'd all be willing to help, then that'd be... awfully swell."
Even from the back, I could practically hear as the soft smile etched its way across Anton's lips as he responded, "I'm afraid that isn't up to me, Fredrick."
For the first time since he turned around, Fredrick regarded Kyle and me. After a few seconds, his eyes landed on me and a slight smile played across his features. It was wiped away within seconds, but his focus wholly turned toward me, "Ah, I see. The leader of the group. Welcome to my fair bridge, Siman's Ridge; I look after this place as mayor, helping to solve the problems – or find someone who can – my name is Fredrick Manheim. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss."
Kyle and Anton stepped aside to make room and my legs moved on their own until I found myself standing before the desk, staring up at the man before me. I gave a wry smile and reached for my book, which sat right at the top of my bag. As I did so, I could hear the shift of clothes and the ever so slightly raised hand from Fredrick, telling Trish to stand down. After pulling the book out, Fredrick's eyebrow raised slightly; but as I began to write out a quick response, I could see that the confusion was replaced with understanding.
It's nice to meet you, too. My name is Muna Shear, to my left is Kyle Orso, and I can tell you already know Anton. What can we do to help with the super mutants?
He must have been a speed-reader, since his eyes only flickered down to the page for about a second before they returned to my eyes. "Well, Miss Shear, we've been seeing attacks on a near daily basis. Today we were lucky to take down a few of the green giants, but it was at a heavy cost. We know where they're situated, but can't do much to mount an assault on the base. I can send one of my people with you as a guide, but if we could either get them to move on or wipe them out, it'd be a major help."
"I won't lie to you, I'm having some difficulty keeping the more rowdy folks in line due to the lack of peace of mind; my people are scared about the near daily attacks. If someone were to solve my problem, I might even be in their debt," he said with a wink. Before I even had a chance to write out a response, he smiled and continued on, "I'm glad that you're willing to take a look, Miss Shear. I'll have Trish show you the mess hall, you can have a nice, warm meal before you leave."
Kyle, who'd been unnaturally quiet, spoke up, his eyes held in a tight glare "We didn't agree to anything."
"Of course not, but I'll foot the bill for the meal; and Miss Shear's eyes speak very clearly about her intentions." Kyle could only glare in response before relenting with a shrug. "Very good, I'm glad you're able to see reason. Now, Trish, why don't you show these kind folk to the mess hall?"
"Sure thing, boss," she waved us toward the door and said, "Come along now."
After having eaten our fill of beans and meat of questionable origins, we met back up with Trish near the gate. She was accompanied by a cute, short girl (well, still taller than me). This girl had long brown hair tied back into a low-hanging ponytail, and dark clothes accompanied by an overly large overcoat. Her face held a carefree attitude, and a great deal of freckles dotted her cheeks and danced across nose.
Trish waved us over, and stretched her hand out to the side until it was chest level with the girl beside her, "This here is Travis, he'll be guidin' ya." I could hear Kyle choke on something behind me.
Travis nodded and made off for the gate. Trish looked apologetic as she explained, "He isn't much of a people person, doesn't talk much. Hope ya will forgive him."
Kyle replied, still getting over his stupefaction, "S-Sure."
"Thank ya kindly."
I began to follow after Travis, and I could hear Kyle and Anton close behind. It didn't take any time before we caught up with the adorable boy and followed him through the gate. His expression was as carefree as it had been earlier, and the only difference since I saw him a moment ago was a sniper rifle slung over his shoulder; it stood almost as tall as himself, but it didn't seem like it weighed him down in the slightest.
We walked through the battlefield from earlier that day; three super mutant corpses were lying in the distance. A few people were busy dragging them toward the north, likely to burn or bury with the rest of the dead.
Travis continued to lead us toward the super mutants' base in silence. After about thirty minutes of travel, I could make out the outlines of a large building off in the distance. Enormous circular pipes of sorts rose high into the skies, cutting off the otherwise smooth roof. And as we drew closer, the rusted hues of the metal walls became more apparent, and the cracked out holes of where glass once stood was all that remained of the windows.
Even at a distance, I could spot large red bags gently swaying in the wind, occasionally something would splash down to the ground below them. Large hound looking things rested in cages or trailed close behind patrolling super mutants. In the center of the yard a small gathering had occurred, it was composed of a number of super mutants but also a handful of humans.
As we neared, I could hear the last few comments from them, "-fyl will be pleased with the development." A human in a three piece suit shook the large hand of the super mutant at the forefront. When that was done, the humans turned and began walking away. A few of the mutants began pushing carts after, trailing close behind.
Travis pulled out his rifle and aimed down the scope, yet his finger never touched the trigger. As he watched the super mutants leave the yard and return inside, he drew his rifle back up and looked at us, crouched beside him. "Ready," was all he said, before sneaking closer; his feet landing on a trail winding around the western side of the complex.
Kyle looked like he wanted to say something, but as Anton entered his vision, all he could do was fix him with a glare until he saw me looking. And he let out a short, frustrated sigh. He checked over his assault rifle, then followed after Travis.
Anton looked over a .32 pistol he'd taken from the compound, spun the chamber, and cocked a smile. Instead of banking left, to follow after the others, he went right and was headed toward the front of the factory.
I looked at the husk of trucks below, the broken down fence, and the large loading dock near the back. Then I turned my focus toward the dug up yard, the makeshift barricades and barriers, and the droves of patrol units walking around the front. It didn't take long for me to come to a decision, and began down the trail, hunting rifle in hand.
Anton's smile grew and grew until it had formed a grin, and his eyes went from calm and composed into what could only be described as glee. Whatever was the case, he was really looking forward to what was about to happen. And then he spotted me, and his grin disappeared, replaced by that soft smile he almost always wore.
-Message Incomplete; Recovery Data-
-Quest Started: Troll's Bridge-